


Choices

by loftyblankets



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: A more advanced version, AsylumTale, Depressing Thoughts, F/M, Frisk has no memory of it, Frisk sees dead Chara, Monsters have been above ground for a while, Reader Is Frisk, Slow Burn, Technologically advanced world, frisk is depressed, kind of?, takes place in a mental institute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 03:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8649583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loftyblankets/pseuds/loftyblankets
Summary: The automated car had to make a choice.Continue driving forward and hit and kill a mother and her daughter, or swerve into the next lane and hit and kill a father and his son.The passengers inside the self driving vehicle would be physically fine.The brakes do not work.Someone had to die.The automated car had to make a choice.And make a choice it did.





	1. The Effect

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [WHO WOULD YOU KILL? | Moral Machine](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/243379) by Markiplier. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: blood mention(s), car accident, death, depression, suicide mention

I’ll never forget that day.  
The day that I saw him die.  
We were going to the movies. Going to see the newest Disney movie. It was Mom’s day off and she wanted to treat us to something special, as she nearly never had days off.  
I remember mom telling me to always obey traffic signals, as they were an important factor to our safety while crossing a road.   
I remember watching the back of the boy in front of me. Kids are always curious about other kids. He was wearing a green vest with light green stripes and a long sleeved white t shirt underneath.   
I remember being jealous of his clothes, as mine were ratty and worn out while his looked bright and new.   
The signal turned into a walking pedestrian, telling us it was safe to cross.  
I remember my mom's tight grip on my hand.  
I remember hearing a lot of honking, and people shouting.   
All four of us looked to our left, and watched as a large, silver SUV barreled towards us.   
I remember watching the boy and his father panic, the father running to get to the other side of the road, where we all were going, and the boy trying to come backwards towards me.  
The father panicked and tried to go back for the boy, yelling his name, but that I don't remember.   
The boy locked eyes with me, his big brown eyes riddled with fear, and I stood, frozen in my spot while my mother tried to pull me to safety.   
In what seemed like slow motion, I watched as the car hit the boy and his dad head on, right as the father had reached his son. I heard their bodies make impact with the metal. The car slowed on its own, and I saw their bodies, bloody and broken. The boy's eyes were red with popped blood vessels in his eyes, making me cry.   
I was the last thing that boy saw.  
The car’s AI chose to take an action, rather than do nothing.   
It could have easily been me and my mom.   
It was 50/50. 

This memory stuck with me my entire life. In fact, it's my only memory of my childhood. My mom says my memory loss is from PTSD.   
I almost never leave the house and I have nightmares nearly every night, leaving me exhausted all the time.   
And I see him.  
The boy.  
I see him as he was, a child, but no longer full of innocence. He embodies hate now, his eyes always a blood red, and use to instill fear in me every hour of everyday, driving me to the brink of insanity. Or maybe I’ve already toppled over the edge? They do say you can get use to anything.  
My mother eventually couldn’t take care of me anymore, saying it was a 24/7 job on top of her actual job that already takes up so much of her time. She’s exhausted. I exhausted her. I’m too much. I shouldn’t be here. But I understand why she’s sending me away. I...need to get away. 

Depressing thoughts seem to be a norm for me anymore. I’ve never attempted suicide by my own choice, however. I always find a reason to stay. But it’s him. He gets into my head and makes me see and think awful things, and drives me into a delusional state. He takes advantage of this state and drives me to suicide. He’s tried three times now.

But this last time.  
Boy.  
This last time was bad.  
So bad that I’ve been checked into this institution to get help.   
They want to repair the damage the accident has caused me, if they can, along with everything else that's wrong with me. Like not eating, not sleeping, and seeing him.   
I think they should have done this years ago. When I was a child. Spared me of this constant misery. Maybe given me a lobotomy, if that would even work. I've prayed for it before, though I'm not religious.

But now I’m here. Here at Harmony Mountain’s Psychiatric Institution. Well, at the gate anyways.

The institution is smaller than I pictured it would be and not as pretty as the rest of our city. It didn't seem to have any of the technological improvements the rest of us had.  
It was a short but stout brick building, with three rows of windows, which meant to me that there were three floors to the building. It looked extremely old. Brick buildings were extremely rare these days. Exciting to be living in a piece of the past. Surrounding the building was a steel metal fence with barbed wire on top and looked new. A small parking lot full of cracks circled the building like a moat, and it was sparse of cars. The fallen leaves signaled that is was fall, making the entire lot give off a haunted feel. 

The front gates opened automatically, and our cab pulled into the parking lot. I was more than ready to get out of the car, I hated cars anymore which makes sense, I suppose. 

All the windows had their curtains drawn closed, except for the entrance, which had tall wooden doors with ancient metal work embroidered on the front, a window on each side of the door with gray, frayed curtains and a small canopy above the walkway. I could see the boy waiting for me through the window. He was staring at me with his red, sunken eyes, blood dripping out of them like thick tears. His dark hair was matted with engine oil and his body was covered in bruises. His clothes didn’t look new anymore, instead they were bloody and torn up from road burn. He looked dead. And he wanted it that way. 

We went inside, and the boy wasn’t inside the lobby. Typical. My mother noticed my looking around and took it for distaste, telling me that I would learn to like it here.

I would have to, seeing as I don’t have a choice anymore in this situation.  
I had a choice then though, but I merely stood there while he died. This is the best thing for me. Lock me away from the world so no one is reminded of that terrible event that caused most automated car manufacturers to rethink their designs and pull their stock from stores. 

People were furious, but understood and would rather be safer than have more children die. 

We approached a lady in her early forties, wearing gray scrubs. Her ponytail was too short and most her brown hair hung loosely on her neck. Her nametag read ‘Sara’. 

I tuned out my mom talking to the receptionist. I didn’t care. Nothing I have to say is important and no one believes anything I say anymore so why try? I mean, I don't even talk anymore because of that. And if I do its sparse. 

Looking around again, I spotted him at the top of the stairs next to the elevator. He sat with his elbows on his knees and his head resting on his palms, watching me, a now clean, sweet, innocent looking boy. He meant to do that too. He’s trying to mess with me but it won’t work. I know his tricks. I'm only wondering what he'll do once it's just me and him alone. I visibly shiver, and the boy smiles, showing off his unnaturally sharp teeth. 

He's only doing that to scare me. And it only works a little bit. I've had dreams where he bites into me with those teeth and tears off chunks of my flesh, nearly to the bone. The pain is..intense to say the least. 

Eventually Mom nudges me towards Sara impatiently, who gestures that she is going to take me to another room for processing. 

This will be the last time I see my mom for a long time. I'm sure she's ecstatic. 

And I don’t really care. I mean, I care a little, I’m a little sad, but I’m tired. I’m tired of trying anymore. And I know she won't miss me, so why miss her? 

She hugs me and says she loves me, and goodbye. I say nothing. Do nothing. I am nothing. The way she says it is routine, she says it because that's what mothers are suppose to do. But she doesn't love me. I know. 

I watch as my mom hurriedly leaves through the front door, leaving me behind with Sara. Sara grunts, apparently not liking the fact that my mom just left me behind without waiting or anything. It's normal, but she doesn't know. Sara takes my hand and leads me away. I take one last look at the front door, close my eyes, take a deep breath, look forward, and accept my fate.


	2. Our First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boy rode with us. He watched Sara’s hands slightly twitch every so often.  
> Maybe she was here for a reason too.

I could hear the wind pick up outside through the thin walls of the institute, the leaves flying around and the trees rustling. Almost brings back a memory, but I can't really remember anything anymore. It's like there's a wall in my mind, blocking me from retrieving my past.   
Sara made me change into plain white clothes that were too baggy for my small body, but she said that was the smallest size. They were mediums.  
She gave me a pair of slip on shoes, obviously cheap and very uncomfortable without socks. But they were better than my last pair.   
I watched as the boy pushed Sara, coming out of thin air. I watched her confusion when she realized I had not done it and no one else was with us.   
She still blamed me though, which was also normal. I didn’t respond in any way, just followed her orders. 

We walked back into the lobby and the boy followed us, messing with Sara and making me look bad. I could tell she didn't like me anymore, if she ever did. 

He was sure gonna have fun here. 

Sara lead me into the elevator and pressed a worn button, the number no longer visible from years of being pushed.   
The elevator doors closed in a scream and the rocky ride began.   
The elevator was dim and loud, and sounded very old. I could see rust and dust piling in the corners and wondered when this had last been cleaned.   
Maybe never. Handprints covered the walls, and it looked like they had tried to wash them off but only smeared them, making the elevator even spookier. 

The ride was silent. Sara looked straight ahead, at nothing.  
I, for one, wondered why the elevator was moving so slow.   
The boy rode with us. He watched Sara’s hands slightly twitch every so often.  
Maybe she was here for a reason too. 

A short beep signaled when we passed a floor, the beep sounding like it ran out of batteries a while ago and was more of a...slow droning noise anymore. 

When we reached the third floor the elevator doors screamed open once more, strange smells pouring into the small compartment. I noticed that I didn’t see any windows. Or any curtains. It was just walls.   
The windows were...fake?

I probably won’t see sunlight for a while.  
Better accept it sooner rather than later. 

Sara placed a hand in between my two shoulder blades, slightly pushing me out of the elevator and down the hall.   
I could smell her perfume and it smelled sickly sweet. Like roses, mixed with vanilla and that cheap perfume smell.   
She lead me past three rooms before stopping at the fourth.   
I guess this is my room. 

I watched her unlock the door and slowly open it.  
It was like she was trying to make the atmosphere even more tense and foreboding.

It wasn’t going to work. 

I walked into the small room.   
It was tiny. The bed rested against the right wall, touching the back and the front walls. In the leftmost corner was a steel toilet that looked utterly beat to hell.   
And that was it. Not even a sink.   
The floor was white, the walls were white, the ceiling was white.  
The only light came from the hallway and the two dim lights beside my door, both sealed in a thick shield of glass held down by yet, more steel that looked welded onto the wall.

This is it.  
Home for however long.  
Until I’m better.  
Which will probably be never. 

Sitting on the bed, I watched Sara close and lock the door behind me before walking back down the hallway and get into the elevator. The creak and rumble of the machine echoed down the hall and in each room, creating a menacing and loud noise. A few other patients began to scream, and others laughed.   
I scooted up against the wall and brought my knees up to my chest. 

I watched as he walked around the room, clearly not liking it.   
He looked at me, watching from across the room.

I watched him back.  
He smiled, showing off his now normal teeth with the front one missing, and walked towards the door. He laid a hand on the wall with the door lights, and they shut off. He walked through the door with a giggle, leaving me in darkness. 

I can tell that as a kid, he use to be adorable. With his haircut that was extremely similar to mine (only fancier and more shiny) and his missing tooth, he was probably a cute kid. 

But his fear-stricken face before his death will forever haunt me, bleeding into any and all dreams I have, making me relive that moment over and over and over as I stand there and do nothing to help him. 

After what seemed like forever, huddled in the corner of my room, unmoving in the dark, the lights flickered back on, right before a man opened a small slot and shoved a plate of food through, holding it in place, waiting for me to retrieve it.   
I still did not move.  
He began to ask me politely to take the plate, just take it, I don’t have to eat it, blah, blah, blah.  
I’m good here.  
Here in my corner.   
Eventually he dropped the plate, angry, bits of mush splattering on the floor and the bottom of the door. 

The plate stayed there.  
The boy never came back.  
I fell asleep to the sounds of crying next door.  
Whimpers and soft sobs.  
They never stopped.


	3. Death In A Straight-Jacket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had heard about monsters. They came up awhile ago, when I was pretty young.  
> Someone had helped them out, but I can never remember that part.

I woke up with my back pressed against the cold wall.   
My fingertips were freezing, as well as my toes, and my nose, and my lips, and my ears.   
I was laying down with my feet on my pillow.   
Ha.

My door lights were off and the sickly light outside bled into my room.   
I already missed sunlight.  
The plate of food was still there.   
The boy wasn’t in my room. He must be off exploring our new house. His new playthings. 

I continued to lay there, wondering if this was all life was going to be from here on out.   
I looked at the yellow-with-age sheets. They were so thin. They couldn’t possibly keep me warm.  
I probably won’t get warm again. Forever cold.  
Okay.

****

My door lights woke me up.  
I guess I fell asleep once more and the door lights turned on, signaling the start of the day I’m guessing.  
Sara called out my name, peeking in from the barred hole in my door.   
I didn’t even recognize it.   
I didn’t move.  
Sara eventually opened the door and took ahold of my arm, gently easing me up off the bed and telling me it was time for breakfast.   
My head felt like lead and I was still freezing. 

She walked me down the stairs next to the elevator, down to the second floor.   
I looked at the ground the whole time, realizing I slept with my shoes on all night.   
Sara lead me to the cafeteria, which smelled like barf, chemicals, and old people.   
She walked with me down the line, making a plate of food for me. I watched the plate, laughing inside.  
I’m not going to eat Sara. I thought you realized that when you stepped into my mashed potatoes.  
At least, I think they were mashed potatoes.   
She sat me down at a table and set my plate in front of me.   
She told me she was leaving to go see other patients but would be back soon and wanted at least a fourth of the food gone.   
I just looked at my plate. 

I could feel eyes on me.  
It was the boy again, I just knew it.   
I looked up, and instead met the eyes of a stranger. 

Well, not eyes. More like dots floating in empty eye sockets.

He sat three tables away. He wore a straight-jacket that was undone, so his arms were free.   
His sleeves were too long and he was a   
Goddamn  
Skeleton.

I had heard about monsters. They came up awhile ago, when I was pretty young.  
Someone had helped them out, but I can never remember that part.  
Anyway, I’ve never actually seen a monster.   
Looking around, I spot a few more, each looking insanely different.  
And, well, insane. 

It’s nice to know that they’re welcome here along with the humans. 

I looked back to the skeleton man, a look of shock and surprise on his face.  
I wonder why.  
Maybe he’s never seen a human?

“No, you’re so stupid. More than half the people here are human, you dip.” The boy was right beside me, whispering in my ear. It sent a shiver up my spine. “No, he recognizes you.”

I look at the boy, confused. “You’ve got a choice, go talk to him first, or wait for him to talk to you.”  
Why would I want to talk to some monster who may or may not, probably not, recognize me? That doesn’t make sense.   
But the boy was gone, and my question went unanswered.  
But he was right. I have a choice: Do something, or do nothing. 

I’m great at doing nothing. Let’s do that. 

I go back to looking at my plate. 

I could still feel the skeleton’s eyes on me, but I ignored him.

Sara eventually came back, taking my food away, and tells me we’re going to see The Doctor.   
I look up to see the skeleton man, but he’s no longer there.  
Okay.

Sara guides me down white halls, our footsteps echoing. The boy walks in my shadow, following with a sick grin on his face, like he knows something I don’t. 

Which is usually true. 

Eventually, we came to a steel door with a key card slot on the right, next to the handle. Sara slides her card and the slot beeps once, and she opens the door. 

The inside has file cabinets on the right wall, a bookcase on the left, and a large wooden desk in the middle, accompanied by a thin, frail looking man with white hair and a long, sharp nose. He peers down at Sara and me, his mouth formed in a permanent frown. 

Sara and The Doctor exchange words, most of which I block out. I’m too busy watching the boy climb the file cabinets and walk on the ceiling, threatening to possess me.  
Now’s not really the time, little boy.   
This only makes him furious, and he sits cross-legged and pouts on the ceiling. 

Sara leaves, closing the door behind her.  
The doctor asks me questions, none of which I answer.   
I don’t trust him.   
I watch him slowly get frustrated with me, soon giving up and slamming his fist on his desk.

That scares me.   
He notices my fear and laughs, telling me he will break me eventually. He dismisses me.  
A different lady comes into the office from a door I didn’t even know was there and ushers me out. She forces me down the hall and into a large common room. She sits me down at one of the many tables and then leaves, saying she’d be back when they were ready for me. 

The common room is full of patients, both human and monster. Most aren’t moving, sitting in front of either one of the two tv’s, one playing a nature show and another playing static. Other patients are playing board games either with someone or by themselves. This room, I notice, has four large windows, and various people are crowded around the windows, trying to see outside or get some sunlight. Strewn about the rest of the floor is chairs, tables, spilled drinks, bodily fluids, and more patients, some rocking back and forth.

“man, they got ev’body in here.” A deep voice sounded next to me. I turned my head to face them with neck breaking speed, and it was the skeleton man. 

I just looked at him. 

And he just looked ahead, his half-lidded eyes sweeping the room lazily. He had his chin rested on his hand, his elbow on the table, and he slouched over. His sleeves were much too long, spilling over his hands and brushing the tabletop. 

“what, neva seen a skeleton before?” His eyes rolled over to me, and my heart beat fast for no known reason. His lazy smile never left his face. 

The boy joined us at the table, taking the third and final seat. My acknowledgement of his presence didn’t go unnoticed by the skeleton, who looked with interest at what I was looking at, but turned back to me confused. 

“what’re you lookin’ at?” He whispered it to me, like it was a secret or something. I nearly forgot that people are here because they’re crazy.

Well, I guess I am too. 

I didn’t answer him. Why try?

“You are such a coward.” The boy laughed, and kept laughing, and kept laughing.   
He wouldn’t shut up.   
He was mocking me.  
Laughing at me.

“W-what’s your name?” The first words I had spoken in months, I directed the question to the skeleton man, but the boy didn’t seem to notice and answered as well with a smirk on his face. 

“Chara.”  
“sans.”


	4. Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The Doctor is ready for you now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: mentions of gore

“what about you?” Sans looked at me expectantly, and I could see the crazy in his eyes. It frightened me. Did I look like that?

“Oh, sorry, she doesn’t talk anymore. Right?” The boy, Chara, gave me a cynical look.   
All these years, and I never thought to ask the boy’s name.   
It almost brought back something, something from a long time ago, but I couldn’t place the memory and it soon went away, forgotten once more. 

I looked away from Sans, hoping he’d just go away.

Sans nudged me. “aw come on, ghost got your tongue?” He chuckled, and got serious. “no, really though, who you talkin’ to?”

I simply looked at him, scared. Scared to talk. Scared he’d run away. Scared he’d stay. 

Sans seemed to understand, and leaned in really close, almost too close. “you can trust me.”

And for some reason, I really wanted to. But Chara shook his head.

“You can’t trust anyone. Not even your worthless self.” He crossed his arms and sat back, pouting. Over what, I don’t care. 

After another minute of silence, Sans realized I wasn’t going to say anything else. He sat back and put his hands up, a gesture saying ‘I give up’. 

“well, since you’re not muchuva talker, i guess i’ll just talk.” Sans smiled a lazy smile, his eyes resting on my face. I avoided making eye contact as much as possible, and Chara tried to hold in his laughs. “you’re new. i know. i neva seen ya before. i’m not new. been here for a while now. imma tell you a secret.” Sans leaned in closed again, and whispered, “you’re neva gonna get betta.” He looked around, making sure no one was listening in. Once he thought the coast was clear, he leaned back in once more, getting even closer to my face. Chara leaned in too. “you gotta get out as soon as possible, kid. this place’ll destroy ya.” 

I looked up at him, meeting his eyes. He looked insane, his eye lights different sizes and his never ending grin. Suddenly, he sat back, scratching the back of his skull and looked away. His face was a slight blue. What?

“Why are you turning blue?” My voice was hoarse, and Sans looked at me, surprised, the blue turning a few shades darker. 

Changing the subject, Sans said, “so, what, you just choose not to talk?” 

I looked away. “I don’t like talking much.” It wasn’t a lie, but also not necessarily the truth either. 

“would you talk if it was just me and you?” The blue in Sans’s face was gone.

Chara snorted. “He wants to get you alone. See if you remember.”  
I glanced at Chara. Remember what?

“Remember him.” Chara grinned, his red eyes flashing, before melting into pure gore on the floor and disappearing. Good thing he wasn’t real, or that blood would have definitely stained. 

Why would I remember Sans? Did I know him before? I don’t know any monsters. Wouldn’t he have said something if he did recognize me?

“are ya not gonna answer me this time?” Sans looked at me expectantly, awaiting an answer. 

“Why are you even talking to me?” I held my hands, placing them in my lap and fiddled with the hem of my shirt, not looking at him. 

“do you want me to go away?” His voice sounded small, and I looked back up at him. He looked genuinely hurt. I felt bad. 

“N-no I-” Sara appeared at my side, interrupting. Sans looked at her, leaned back in his chair and gave her an easy smile. She did not smile back. Instead, she looked at me and placed a hand on my back. 

“The Doctor is ready for you now.” I heard Sans sharply suck in a breath, but when I looked at him, he looked like he was asleep. 

I stood up, pushed my chair in, and let Sara lead me back out the doors I came in. She takes me past The Doctor’s office and into a small, wooden room a few doors down. A one way glass window was taking up the upper portion of the right wall, and a chair sat in the middle of the room with shackles attached to the armrests and the front two legs of the chair. A metal headband was attached to a rod, allowing it to move up or down depending on the height of the subject.

I knew what it was.

The modernized electric chair, used in certain kinds of therapies. 

I didn’t expect this shocking turn of events.

Ha.

Sara pushed me into the room, and I sat on the chair voluntarily. The less I fought, the faster this would go.   
Sara shackled me in and placed the metal band around my head, securing it tightly. My brains would for sure be scrambled after this.   
As she left, Sara closed the door behind her and a soft click announced that the door was locked, and I was trapped in this deadly device. 

I missed the common room. 

“Hello, Frisk.” I could hear The Doctor through a microphone. He must be able to see me from his office. Funny, I didn’t see the glass window when I was in there earlier. “Today, we are going to see if you will eat, as you have not had a single bit of food in nearly two weeks.” A lady I didn’t recognize came into the room and set a tray in front of me, with a plate of food. 

It was spaghetti. 

“Now, this kind woman will feed you. If you refuse, you will receive a shock. Each shock will be more painful than the next, and longer than the last one. Now,” the lady twirled some noodles onto the fork, and held it up to my mouth, “eat.” 

I stared at the fork. It looked revolting. 

I turned my head away.

“Very well.” 

Immediately, a shock was sent into my body, and fuck, it hurt. But it only lasted a second. 

Let’s do this.

For the next hour, I refused to eat. As promised, the shocks became increasingly painful and longer, this last one lasting six seconds. My nerves were on fire. I couldn’t see or think. All I could hear was laughing. Chara laughing. 

Finally, after a seven second shock that nearly caused me to vomit on myself, I took the bite the nurse had patiently waited for me to take. 

These people were sickos, watching this happen to me. 

“Finally. Well done. Take another.” I could feel tears behind my eyes as she twirled more onto the fork and held it up to me. It wasn’t even good. I didn’t want it. 

The Doctor didn’t hesitate and gave me another seven second shock, causing me to black out. When I woke up, the lady and the plate were gone. Sara came back, undoing the straps holding me down. I could see red, raw marks on my skin. It hurt incredibly bad. 

“Now, you are going to be given a shock collar at every meal. If you do not each at least half of your plate, you will be shocked. This shock will mimic the last shock you received. Remember that pain, Frisk.” 

My brain felt too scrambled. I couldn’t think. Keeping my eyes closed, Sara put me into a wheelchair, and wheeled me out of the room. My head lobbed from side to side, and it felt like I was drooling. I could hear murmuring of other patients, and something about going to see the nurse. I soon passed out from the pain, drifting and dreaming about falling, falling in an abyss of inky darkness, and that goddamn laughter again.

Always the laughter.


	5. Tasteless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She seemed wary walking up to me, like I would attack her or something.  
> Honestly, not surprising. We are in a mental facility after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: blood, stabbing

Bright lights.  
Bright lights beat down on my eyelids, waking me up.  
I have no idea where I am.

Sitting up, I saw four other beds lined up against the wall next to me. Each one had a patient in it, some asleep and some crying, probably from pain.   
There were many other patients in the room as well, on makeshift beds that did not look comfortable. A few thin blankets on the floor was their “bed”. No pillow for them. 

Why did I deserve a bed?

“You don’t, stupid.” I looked to my right to see Chara leaning against the wall across the room with one arm behind his back. Shadows surrounded him, making him appear menacing. His blood red eyes glinted, and though he was far away, I could hear his voice echo throughout my mind. I closed my eyes, feeling tears coming on.

“You’re weak.” Chara started to walk towards me, going through obstacles and patients, none of whom noticed. Tears began to fall from my eyes and no matter what I did, they wouldn’t stop. 

Arriving at my bed, Chara clambered up on top of me. When did I lay back down? I couldn’t move at all, only my eyes.

I watched as Chara revealed what he had been concealing behind his back. A huge kitchen knife. I guess that’s where he’s been. 

“You never deserved to live, Frisk.” I involuntarily shuddered as he said my name for the very first time. A name I didn’t even think of as mine. I can’t even remember my mom saying that name. Was that my name? 

“I should have survived. You should have pulled me to safety. You could have. But you just stood there, didn’t you? Like a coward.” Chara raised the knife above my chest, smiling. Tears fell from my eyes and pooled into my ears, making me extremely uncomfortable. 

As if I wasn’t already. 

“Bye bye.” In horror, I watched Chara bring the knife down and plunge it into my chest. Blood spurted everywhere And I could feel myself panic, realizing I was going to die. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything. Chara began to laugh as he plunged the knife again and again into my chest. I began convulsing, like the knife had been poisoned, and my eyes rolled back into my head. 

Suddenly, I saw myself in front of a large man with no facial features. He towered over me, clutching his chest. I heard a deep rumble come from him, perhaps a laugh? And then choking, and dust. So much dust. A little, white heart appeared in the air, cracked, and shattered as maniac laughter echoed through my head. As the dust cleared, A small, yellow flower sat in front of me. Chara’s laughter never ended, and then-

I woke up breathing raggedly, clutching my chest and in enormous amounts of pain. 

I remembered everything. 

Am I not..dead?

Looking myself over, I saw I was bandaged up on my wrists, my head, and my ankles. Everywhere the metal bands of the electric chair had made contact with my skin. But my chest was fine. No blood, no knife, no Chara anywhere to be seen. 

I remembered the large man. And the flower. 

Was that, a memory? Or just another nightmare? 

I’ll never know, so best to move on, even though a small voice in the far reaches of my mind told me to do otherwise. I didn’t listen.

Looking around, I saw that there were far more beds that I had dreamed of, and all but two were empty. They were side by side, with one completely silent and the other twitching and muttering in his sleep. 

The sounds of shoes tapping against the linoleum made me look towards the door, and a short, chubby, blonde-haired woman came into view, checking the other patients’ iv’s and writing something down on her clipboard. She turned around to come to my bed and jumped slightly at seeing me awake and sitting up in bed and watching her. She seemed wary walking up to me, like I would attack her or something. 

Honestly, not surprising. We are in a mental facility after all. 

She gave me a large, fake smile, and walked over to me, her shoes tap-tap-tapping the entire time. 

“I see you’re awake. How’re you feeling?” Her pen was poised over the clipboard, awaiting my response.

I said nothing to her, just looked at her. 

She nodded, and wrote something down, then set the clipboard on the bed adjacent to me so I couldn’t read anything. I could tell it was my file though, as I saw a picture of me. 

I mean, it kind of looked like me. I haven’t looked in a mirror in months. Chara is always there behind me, watching me. Always smiling, blood always dripping from his eyes. 

It was a terrifying sight, so to save myself that horror, I simply stopped looking in mirrors. I’m sure I look completely awful. 

“So, you’re a mute huh?” The nurse checked my iv’s like she did the other two patients, apparently trying to make small talk with me. I shook my head no, because I’m not. I just don’t like talking anymore. It was a wasted effort most times. 

Thinking back on it, I cringed at myself talking to Sans, my voice hoarse and cracking. I wish i had said nothing. He would’ve gone away. Maybe. 

Why did I want him to stay though?

“Well, if you’re not a mute, why won’t you talk to anyone?” I shrugged. I didn’t want to talk to her, or anyone for that matter.

The nurse pursed her lips and looked down, and went back to the clipboard, writing something down. She began to check my bandages, her face giving nothing away. The way I hurt should mean infection, but what do I know? 

“You know,” the nurse began, moving from my ankle bandages to my wrist bandages, “If you just talked to us, we could help you get better faster.” She looked at me and smiled. I could see through her mask. She hated it here. She didn’t really care about any of us. 

Moving to my head bandage, she spoke quietly. “ Your stubbornness will get you nothing in here. Comply.” 

After replacing all my bandages, she left me alone. She didn’t even give me pain pills. Well, I’d probably have to tell her I’m in pain for her to even think about getting me the pills. But wouldn’t she also just know that yea, I probably needed some pain pills. 

I listened to her shoes tap all the way down the hall until I couldn’t hear her anymore. This building seemed huge on the inside. 

I was left like that for hours. Alone, listening and watching a ceiling light across the room flicker, and watching the other patients. They were both in beds next to each other, one I named Mutterer and the other I named Screamer, as they would occasionally sit up and scream, before passing right back out again. 

I counted the seconds, timing how often the screaming patient would wake up and, well, scream. He was very precise, whether he meant to be or not. I would always count to two thousand, seven hundred and eighty nine seconds before he would wake up and scream. 

I don’t know why no one came to check on him or why the other patient wasn’t waking up. 

Was he screaming like that when I was asleep? 

The hours went on, and on, and on. There were no windows or clocks, so I couldn’t measure the amount of time that had passed. Well, I could, but only in screams. He had screamed about twelve times now. Don’t know, kind of lost count at one point. 

After the thirteenth scream, the nurse came back and checked on everyone again, in the same order. She brought me a small plate of food, smaller than my head, and what I assume is a shock collar. She placed the food in front of me, secured the collar around my neck, and sat on the adjacent bed with a small remote in her hand. She watched me. 

“I have to watch you eat.” she said, clarifying the situation. 

Looking down at my plate, I swallowed the vomit I could feel coming up.

I didn’t want to eat. Food just seems so disgusting. I don’t know why. I just have no appetite and trying to eat will make me gag. 

But also, I do not want to get shocked again. Not again. 

Lifting the spoon, I scooped up a bit of corn, and brought it to my lips. Reluctantly, I opened my mouth and ate one kernal. It tasted like nothing. 

I tried the potatoes too, which looked like they had tried to fry them but they ended up a mushy mess. They also tasted like nothing. 

Trying the “chicken” they gave me (which, surprise surprise, tasted like nothing) I could feel my stomach rumble angrily at me, and a wave of nausea came over me. I set the fork back down and pushed the plate away. 

The nurse frowned, and pressed the button. Immediately the shock forced all my muscles to tense and I clenched my jaw, my teeth nearly cracking. After seven seconds, the nurse let go of the button. 

Relief washed over me, and a split second later I vomited all over myself. I could feel myself crying. 

“Oh dear. I guess you should have eaten then, huh?” The nurse shook her head in disapproval, and took the plate and left the room.

She was coming back right? I’m covered in vomit and bits of food that flew off the plate during my spasms. 

I felt disgusting and began to sob. 

This was not better than dealing with my mom. This was so much worse and now…

Now I can’t leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: two thousand seven hundred and eighty nine seconds is equal to forty six minutes.


	6. Scarred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As if he read my thoughts, he smiled and said, “i can prove it to ya. tonight. you wanna?”
> 
> His eyes glimmered, his excitement shining through. Or maybe that was the crazy. 
> 
> Either way, I nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: suicide mention(s), scars, blood mention(s)

They let me shower today.

The nurse walked in early this morning, waking me up and took me to shower.   
Screamer was gone.  
I must have dozed off at one point, though I barely slept at all. The smell of my vomit didn’t really help, but one moment he was there and then I woke up and he was gone. I didn’t fall asleep again. 

I wasn’t wearing my shoes, and hated the cold floor under my feet. But I dealt with it, staring at my pale feet the entire time and relished the warmth of a shower. 

The nurse, of course, had to watch me the whole time.   
Make sure I didn’t do anything.   
It was extremely exposing, her watching my every move, silently judging everything I do, judging my mannerisms.  
It was awful. 

The reflective surface of the shower gave me a pretty good look too, of me, and of her watching me.   
I never want to shower here again. Ever. 

Even though I have to. 

The last year has really changed my body, what with the havoc that had recently been put upon it.   
With the last suicide attempt.   
I could even see the sliver of a scar on my throat, something hardly noticeable unless you know where to look.  
The scar from the surgery that quite possibly saved my voice.   
Perhaps in a parallel universe I’m a mute.   
Pretty close to it now anyways. 

Continuing down my body I saw the faint scars on my wrists, lengthwise. From when I was ten.   
And then there’s the scar on my leg, from when I was fourteen.

That was the first time Chara possessed me. 

I don’t like to think about it.   
No point in bringing it up because no one cares.

No one. 

The nurse huffed impatiently, snapping me out of my trance. I started to wash my hair. I noticed how dirty it was, and how badly it was cut.

I did it myself so, I knew it was bad.

But jeez, it’s lopsided and choppy as all hell. 

It probably doesn’t help that I didn’t use a mirror.   
I never look in mirrors anymore.  
He’s always there. 

Where is he now?

I could see my ribs too.   
When did I get this skinny?   
I suppose when you starve yourself you do lose weight.   
I should start eating again. 

I should try to get better.   
I want to get better. 

Please. 

I made eye contact with myself, and I could see how tired I was. Dark circles under my eyes, which looked glazed over and dead. They use to be such a pretty brown. The kind of brown that was warm and inviting, pleasant. 

I looked like an entirely different person.

Hell, I am. 

...I decided I didn't like looking at myself anymore. It didn't look like me. 

But I don't even know what ‘me’ looks like.   
I wish I could remember. 

The shower water was beginning to become lukewarm, so I didn’t stay any longer than I needed to.  
I don’t think the nurse would have let me anyway.

Least the water is hot. Not total torture here. 

She handed me a thin towel and took me to a different room to change into new clothes, I assume.   
She didn’t close the door but instead stood in the doorway, once again watching me.

Privacy doesn’t exist here, I guess. 

The clothes she gave me looked exactly like my old ones, but I knew they weren’t because they didn’t have the small blood stain on the collar from when I got a bloody nose.

I don’t remember it but apparently it happened after my “therapy session” with The Doctor. 

They also weren't covered in vomit so...

My new clothes hung loosely on me as did my others, but I felt a lot better. Healthier. Crazy what a shower can do for you. 

The nurse placed a hand on my upper back and lead me back to the infirmary, where I could hear talking.   
Walking in, I noticed two people by Mutterer’s bed, and Mutterer himself sitting up. He was crying softly and seemed to be whimpering in pain. His hands covered his face and was rocking back and forth slightly. The two people by him took notes and softly asked him questions, which he shook his head yes or no to. 

The nurse lead me to my bed and sectioned me off from the rest of the room with a curtain around my bed. I couldn’t hear what anyone was saying.

When could I leave? I don’t want to sit here anymore, I want to walk around. Be a normal person again. 

Have I ever been normal?

After about twenty minutes, the nurse came back. She had fresh bandages with her and a clear, plastic cup of water. 

She silently changed my bandages, only commenting that I was healing okay.

And that I could leave. 

Thank god for that. 

She gave me a pair of shoes to wear and a jacket, saying that the heating isn’t working in some areas. 

It was fall. Which meant soon it would be winter. Hopefully they would get it fixed before then, or we'll all freeze. 

She moved the curtain and I saw that we were alone in the room. Mutterer was gone, along with the two people. 

Walking past his bed, I could see the shape of his body on the mattress, perfectly formed and slightly wet. Like he never moved while he was unconscious and like he had been sweating slime or something…

The nurse ushered me out of the room and we walked down the barren halls, white with speckles of grime here and there. No windows. 

This place was a prison and I couldn’t check out on my own. 

Not until I was a legal adult at the ripe of twenty one. 

So two years. I’m screwed. 

Entering the common room, I could see a dark shadow in one of the corners. 

Chara. 

I watched as he tormented an elderly man, pushing him around, pulling at his clothes, generally driving the poor guy even crazier than he already was.   
I could see the confusion on his face as he was pushed on the ground by nothing that he could see.   
I felt bad for him, but I was glad Chara was helping himself to tormenting someone else other than me. 

Like last time, I sat at an empty table by myself. I rested my head on my arms and closed my eyes. 

This place was boring, despite the electroshock therapy. I wish I could go home. 

It hasn’t even been a week yet. 

Would home even be better? It wasn’t great when I left, why would it be any different?

Someone poked my forehead, stirring me from my thoughts. 

I opened an eye and bright orbs stared right back at me.

Sans. 

“hey, where ya been? you were gone for like, two days or somethin’ like that.” He poked at the bandages on my wrists. “what they do to you?” 

I sighed. I didn’t want to entertain him. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to do anything. 

So I closed my eyes again. 

“hey...don’t be like that…” Sans poked me again. “oh right, i forgot you don’t talk, so i gotta do all the talkin’.” He sat back in his seat and I moved my head to look at him. He was watching two kids wrestle on the floor, one laughing maniacally. I think that’s just his laugh.   
He did seem familiar. Something about him felt like…

I don’t know. I couldn’t place it. But I knew him somehow. 

He looked back at me and smiled. 

“you know, it’s gon be real hard to be your friend if you neva talk.” He placed his arms on the table, crossing them and leaned forward. I simply shrugged at him. 

“aw, come on. gimme somethin’ here. what’s ya name?” 

I sighed again and rubbed my eyes. This was better than the infirmary, but god, I just wanted some silence. Chara wasn’t around to torment me so I just wanted a little peace. 

“look, if you want me outta your hair, just say so. it’s a simple sentence.” I sat back in my chair and looked at him, and he mimicked me. 

He didn’t seem crazy, but then again, neither did I, I don’t think. I wonder what his story was. Especially with him being a monster. I wish I could ask him questions about the monsters breaking free from their underground prison, but I won’t. 

He never left. And I never spoke. So we just stared at each other. 

It was pissing me off. 

He was just smiling at me with that stupid grin, waiting for me to talk. 

Finally, I got up and left. One of the few windows in the room didn’t have many people around it, so I went and looked outside. 

The trees had all lost the majority of their leaves which were rotting on the ground. The cars that were there before didn’t seem to have moved at all. In fact it looked like nothing had changed outside. 

“want me to tell ya a secret?” Sans whispered into my ear, making me jump and bump into an older man behind me, who just shoved me back into Sans. 

I righted myself and took a step back from the window and Sans. Sans only came closer and whispered to me again. 

“all the windows are fake.” My ear tingled at his breath. Wait, how does he breathe? “what they’re lookin’ at, what ev’body looks at, it’s fake. jussa screen, a hologram that they change sometimes when they’re not feelin’ lazy.” So my suspicions were confirmed. 

I looked at him, not believing what he had said. How could he know the truth?

As if he read my thoughts, he smiled and said, “i can prove it to ya. tonight. you wanna?”

His eyes glimmered, his excitement shining through. Or maybe that was the crazy. 

Either way, I nodded. 

Sans grinned even wider, if that’s even possible, and clapped his hands, making a few patients jump. “okay, i gotta get a few things togetha and then i’ll show you.” He walked away, muttering to himself. My excitement depleted and I looked back out the window. 

He’s crazy. Everyone here is. Why did I think any differently? 

A chill ran up my spine as Chara approached me. I could see his reflection in the window walking up to me, his sick grin and bleeding eyes making me look away. 

Turning around, he wasn’t there. Or anywhere that I could see. So I sat back at a table alone and placed my head down on the table and closed my eyes. 

After dinner (which was a slimy slice of unrecognizable meat and some mashed potatoes), we were lead back to our cells/rooms where we were staying for the night. 

Sans said he would show me tonight. The truth. 

My stomach jumped in excitement despite me trying to not get my hopes up like I always do. 

I curled up onto my bed, shivering, and waited for Sans to come get me, however he would.


	7. Notice**

Hey everyone, I recently rewrote this story to fix some plotholes and generally build the world a bit more. I highly recommend going back to the beginning and rereading the story, as there are different things that have happened along with details that weren't in the first draft. I promise new content is coming out very soon!


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